


Hellhound on my Trail

by aderyn



Series: Natural Facts [29]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: THoB, TRF, dogs & regrets
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-13
Updated: 2012-05-13
Packaged: 2017-11-05 06:50:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 280
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/403579
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aderyn/pseuds/aderyn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>We’re all at a crossroads in one way or another.</p>
<p>He didn’t think there were things to aspire to beyond genius.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hellhound on my Trail

_“There's strange weather in the back of the room...love is hell.”—Ryan Adams_

 

There's smoke, and therefore fire, when Henry Knight comes to their door.

And when John asks him if he’s seen the Devil, he says he’s gone down to the hollow; that’s where the Devil is; that’s where there are paths into the many underworlds, not just the one.

*******

We’re all at a crossroads in one way or another, thinks John. You can take a case or not; you can agree to track the monster, or you can stay home. But still, when they see the eyes, they fail to observe what they really mean: _the future is coming_.

_(In the dog’s eyes there is howling; there is running; there is the leaving of footprints, nothing more.)_

Oh but what we slip into, when we think we’re pursued, when we know, when it’s no longer a game. Then there’s lightning and hail; then there’s fog; then there’s real fear.

*******

Later, John regrets not using his hands, just laying on the hands and saying, Sherlock, it’s all right, you’re here in front of the fire with (just me), and it’s just fear; he regrets shooting the dog too; that was fear.

And Sherlock (at night, at the violin, when the days worry at him a little), regrets what he can’t name yet.

He didn’t think there were things to aspire to beyond genius. But later, much later, when the wind’s rising and he has to move, he dreams of a way that his only friend (the only one in the universe), might be protected, might not pursue him as he tears (howling) over the moors of the world.

**Author's Note:**

> [Robert Johnson's Hellhound on My Trail](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OHAIgpih86E)
> 
>  
> 
> “Got to keep movin', I've got to keep movin'  
> Blues fallin' down like hail, blues fallin' down like hail...  
> And the day keeps on worrin' me, there's a hellhound on my trail  
> Hellhound on my trail, hellhound on my trail...”


End file.
